Diary of a Chaos Marine - Revision history

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104.220.162.108 at 11:42, 25 December 2022

2022-12-25T11:42:29Z

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104.220.162.108 at 11:48, 26 April 2021

2021-04-26T11:48:41Z

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104.220.162.108 at 11:05, 26 April 2021

2021-04-26T11:05:19Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 11:05, 26 April 2021
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	The day started with us talking about the World Eaters at the mess. When we came to the fact that they have no recorded home-world, brother Hades found a good reason why: “They ate it.” Stupidity-execution carried out by the guv, who hates stupid people (and doesn’t like bad jokes either.) Only minutes later, brother Unghor foolishly asked out loud: “If Slaanesh is the god of sex, why is it Tzeentch who’s got a thousand sons?” It resulted in the guv having killed two of his own men for being stupid before breakfast was over.		The day started with us talking about the World Eaters at the mess. When we came to the fact that they have no recorded home-world, brother Hades found a good reason why: “They ate it.” Stupidity-execution carried out by the guv, who hates stupid people (and doesn’t like bad jokes either.) Only minutes later, brother Unghor foolishly asked out loud: “If Slaanesh is the god of sex, why is it Tzeentch who’s got a thousand sons?” It resulted in the guv having killed two of his own men for being stupid before breakfast was over.
	Checked the mail, and found a flyer with “Join the Blood-Drinkers Anonymous.” Found out it was some kind of Imperial junk-mail sent to the wrong address.		Checked the mail, and found a flyer with “Join the Blood-Drinkers Anonymous.” Found out it was some kind of Imperial junk-mail sent to the wrong address.
	In the evening, the (slightly delayed) party to celebrate our return was held. (We were captured aboard a space hulk, remember?) We all had a jolly good time, but soon a pack of daemons invited themselves to the party. Before night was over, a drunken Plaguebearer had vomited on Brother Fratius (killing him), a swarm of Nurglings got the Land Raider going and drove away with it, and three of our men were possessed by daemons. It all came to a finale when a enormous Great Unclean One materialized in the pub, squashing several marines and cultists to death upon it’s arrival. (Note: Nurgloid daemons are very annoying. Remember NOT to get possessed by one~~&#33~~		In the evening, the (slightly delayed) party to celebrate our return was held. (We were captured aboard a space hulk, remember?) We all had a jolly good time, but soon a pack of daemons invited themselves to the party. Before night was over, a drunken Plaguebearer had vomited on Brother Fratius (killing him), a swarm of Nurglings got the Land Raider going and drove away with it, and three of our men were possessed by daemons. It all came to a finale when a enormous Great Unclean One materialized in the pub, squashing several marines and cultists to death upon it’s arrival. (Note: Nurgloid daemons are very annoying. Remember NOT to get possessed by one.)

	Day 4, week 5		Day 4, week 5
	Awoke face down in a puddle of slime behind the bar. Got up just in time to get out of the pub before it was demolished. Apparently, it was fully trashed inside, and so full of slime from the daemons that dropped in last night, that the guv found no reason to keep it standing. Instead, he is planning to erect a Chaos monolith in ~~it’s~~ place.		Awoke face down in a puddle of slime behind the bar. Got up just in time to get out of the pub before it was demolished. Apparently, it was fully trashed inside, and so full of slime from the daemons that dropped in last night, that the guv found no reason to keep it standing. Instead, he is planning to erect a Chaos monolith in its place.
	Our squad was called to search for the Land Raider which was hijacked by the Nurglings last night. We eventually found it half-buried by sand in the desert-region of the planet. It was littered with dead Nurglings, dried up and shrivelled, who obviously couldn’t cope with the heat. Brother Furiax insisted riding back to base on top of the tank, but it almost cost him his life; When we returned his lungs were half-filled with sand, and he was twice as heavy to carry because of the amount of sand inside his armor.		Our squad was called to search for the Land Raider which was hijacked by the Nurglings last night. We eventually found it half-buried by sand in the desert-region of the planet. It was littered with dead Nurglings, dried up and shrivelled, who obviously couldn’t cope with the heat. Brother Furiax insisted riding back to base on top of the tank, but it almost cost him his life; When we returned his lungs were half-filled with sand, and he was twice as heavy to carry because of the amount of sand inside his armor.
	Used the rest of the afternoon sharing thoughts about war with the familiar.		Used the rest of the afternoon sharing thoughts about war with the familiar.

1d4chan>The Forgefather at 22:45, 19 December 2015

2015-12-19T22:45:52Z

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	“Your lascannons aren’t placed at the right spots! What if the enemy attacked here? Or here? Or put heavy fire on this wall? You’d have to concentrate the fire on that area over by the dead lizard, while your terminators got into position over by that pile of bones. And barbed wire placed over there isn’t gonna slow the enemy down! You’ve gotta put another turret on this spot here, next to the cactus, and have warriors standing ready over here in case of a breakthrough. And what if that scorpion over there assaulted this wall? I’d suggest a squad of...”		“Your lascannons aren’t placed at the right spots! What if the enemy attacked here? Or here? Or put heavy fire on this wall? You’d have to concentrate the fire on that area over by the dead lizard, while your terminators got into position over by that pile of bones. And barbed wire placed over there isn’t gonna slow the enemy down! You’ve gotta put another turret on this spot here, next to the cactus, and have warriors standing ready over here in case of a breakthrough. And what if that scorpion over there assaulted this wall? I’d suggest a squad of...”

	No doubt the Iron Warriors are tactical ~~geniuses~~. I never learned what their business on the desert-planet was, and we left only hours later.		No doubt the Iron Warriors are tactical genii. I never learned what their business on the desert-planet was, and we left only hours later.

	Day 6, week 3		Day 6, week 3

1d4chan>Asorel at 19:50, 12 October 2015

2015-10-12T19:50:30Z

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	Day 4, week 2		Day 4, week 2

	Was told that brother Lurg from my squad died last night from wounds sustained at the killing-grounds yesterday. Unfortunately no one noticed how he was wounded. Although Lurg probably did, it was hard for him to explain without his jaw. (Note: Must remember to burn the “I’m Sorry!”-letter)		Was told that brother Lurg from my squad died last night from wounds sustained at the killing-grounds yesterday. Unfortunately no one noticed how he was wounded. Although Lurg probably did, it was hard for him to explain without his jaw. (Note: Must remember to burn the “I’m Sorry!”-letter)
	29: Played Death-poker in the evening. Won nothing, and lost half my miniature-collection, including the special character “Rambo.” (We play with the miniatures in a game called “Warhammer 2k”)		29: Played Death-poker in the evening. Won nothing, and lost half my miniature-collection, including the special character “Rambo.” (We play with the miniatures in a game called “Warhammer 2k”)

68.36.187.136: minor grammar

2013-12-02T12:33:01Z

minor grammar

← Older revision		Revision as of 12:33, 2 December 2013
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	Day 6, week 1		Day 6, week 1
	Last night I had a long vision of Tzeentch, telling me how mad he was at me. I spent all night running from his minions in the psychic realm. How I earned the wrath of Tzeentchie-boy (that old trickster is beyond me.		Last night I had a long vision of Tzeentch, telling me how mad he was at me. I spent all night running from his minions in the psychic realm. How I earned the wrath of Tzeentchie-boy that old trickster is beyond me.
	Was told at the mess that the blue liquid I had drunk last night was in fact an antidote to Nurgle’s Rot, and was lifted up by a group of Plague-marines and carried across the courtyard, being praised and honored by the foul men. Never before have I drunk and thereby destroyed the nemesis of an entire squad of marines. (Note: My new nickname is “Doom-drinker,” apparently.)		Was told at the mess that the blue liquid I had drunk last night was in fact an antidote to Nurgle’s Rot, and was lifted up by a group of Plague-marines and carried across the courtyard, being praised and honored by the foul men. Never before have I drunk and thereby destroyed the nemesis of an entire squad of marines. (Note: My new nickname is “Doom-drinker,” apparently.)

1d4chan>Windows2000pro: added to Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000

2012-05-27T19:19:49Z

added to Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:19, 27 May 2012
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			{{story}}

	A Chaos Space Marine’s Diary		A Chaos Space Marine’s Diary

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	“Ghaurion...? Doom-drinker, is that you?”		“Ghaurion...? Doom-drinker, is that you?”

	[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Stories]][[Category:Chaos]]		[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[Category:Stories]][[Category:Chaos]] [[Category:Stories/Warhammer 40,000]]

71.192.10.129 at 18:53, 27 March 2012

2012-03-27T18:53:07Z

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	Awoke with left arm fully mutated! A beautiful tentacle-thingy, slimy and gross. Had great fun coiling it around brother Xarnon’s throat and almost strangling him. Went to Arzhar’s tent with a bunch of possessees, and had a “Who’s got the most hideous body-part”-competition. (Brother Igmarius won, sporting a toe with a fly’s head and little legs of it’s own.)		Awoke with left arm fully mutated! A beautiful tentacle-thingy, slimy and gross. Had great fun coiling it around brother Xarnon’s throat and almost strangling him. Went to Arzhar’s tent with a bunch of possessees, and had a “Who’s got the most hideous body-part”-competition. (Brother Igmarius won, sporting a toe with a fly’s head and little legs of it’s own.)
	Got tickets for tomorrow’s Emperor’s Children gig on the planet Harthras IV. (Note: Bus leaves at 4.0		Got tickets for tomorrow’s Emperor’s Children gig on the planet Harthras IV. (Note: Bus leaves at 4.0
	Went to Chaos sorcerer in hope of finding out which god has gifted me with the tentacle. After two hours of the ~~sorceror~~ looking at the arm and taking down notes, came the following answer: “It is probably either Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle or Slaanesh.” (No big surprises there)		Went to Chaos sorcerer in hope of finding out which god has gifted me with the tentacle. After two hours of the sorcerer looking at the arm and taking down notes, came the following answer: “It is probably either Khorne, Tzeentch, Nurgle or Slaanesh.” (No big surprises there)

	Day 1, week 2		Day 1, week 2
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	Day 1,Week 3		Day 1,Week 3
	Had nothing to do half the day, so went with brother Ixius to the paint-shed where we stylized our armor some more. Ixius painted a large I (for Ixius) on his chestplate, although I’m sure I’ve seen that ~~particluar~~ letter displayed in similar manners before...		Had nothing to do half the day, so went with brother Ixius to the paint-shed where we stylized our armor some more. Ixius painted a large I (for Ixius) on his chestplate, although I’m sure I’ve seen that particular letter displayed in similar manners before...
	Started preparing this week’s lighting-raid on an imperial hive-city called Necromunda. Apparently, the guv and all his officers and allies had been planning this raid for months, and have done all the necessary calculations. With the forces we’re gonna use, the hive city will be reduced to a scorched wasteland littered with the dead in no time!		Started preparing this week’s lighting-raid on an imperial hive-city called Necromunda. Apparently, the guv and all his officers and allies had been planning this raid for months, and have done all the necessary calculations. With the forces we’re gonna use, the hive city will be reduced to a scorched wasteland littered with the dead in no time!
	In the evening, the guv violently slaughtered one of his own marines. The reason was that the marine had been given a mutated head by his god. What had his head mutated into? Two eagle-heads...		In the evening, the guv violently slaughtered one of his own marines. The reason was that the marine had been given a mutated head by his god. What had his head mutated into? Two eagle-heads...
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	Day 2, week 3		Day 2, week 3
	Got up early to play Blood-hockey with the lads, against a team composed of bloodthirsty beastmen and some imperial prisoners. With the game being my first one for ages, I only managed two kill-goals and one goal-kill. In the end, we won the game 18-3.		Got up early to play Blood-hockey with the lads, against a team composed of bloodthirsty beastmen and some imperial prisoners. With the game being my first one for ages, I only managed two kill-goals and one goal-kill. In the end, we won the game 18-3.
	Later, my squad and I was ordered into the desert-region of the planet to crush a ~~beastman~~ rebellion against us. When arriving, we saw that without any material to build a proper base with, they had constructed a gigantic sandcastle in the middle of the sea of sand-dunes. I was the big hero of the campaign, firing the decisive (and only) shot which took down their stronghold, burying them underneath. Was rewarded a medallion by the guv, which was ripped from my armor again when the lads told him what kind of resistance we had met.		Later, my squad and I was ordered into the desert-region of the planet to crush a beastmen rebellion against us. When arriving, we saw that without any material to build a proper base with, they had constructed a gigantic sandcastle in the middle of the sea of sand-dunes. I was the big hero of the campaign, firing the decisive (and only) shot which took down their stronghold, burying them underneath. Was rewarded a medallion by the guv, which was ripped from my armor again when the lads told him what kind of resistance we had met.

	Day 3, week 3		Day 3, week 3
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	Day 2, week 6		Day 2, week 6
	Surprised to wake up late and find that the fleet hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone was so ~~tence~~ and excited, the landing site was crammed with marines and cultists alike. The Sorcerer was restlessly dipping his mind in and out of the warp, checking for any signs of the fleet arriving. The berzerkers were fighting amongst each other (friendly at first, but it ended with a bloody chainsword and a severed arm), the Plague marines were dozing in a huge puddle of slime, and the Slaaneshi were doing things a bit too rude to describe here.		Surprised to wake up late and find that the fleet hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone was so tense and excited, the landing site was crammed with marines and cultists alike. The Sorcerer was restlessly dipping his mind in and out of the warp, checking for any signs of the fleet arriving. The berzerkers were fighting amongst each other (friendly at first, but it ended with a bloody chainsword and a severed arm), the Plague marines were dozing in a huge puddle of slime, and the Slaaneshi were doing things a bit too rude to describe here.
	About mid-day, a marine from Squad Zerus was executed by the guv for thinking that the Death Guard’s pre-heresy name was the Life Guard. (“I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it...? What? The Guv?! Where?!!”) Thankfully, the guv was so busy with this that he never heard brother Xathras claim that there is a successor chapter of the Iron Hands called the Iron Feet.		About mid-day, a marine from Squad Zerus was executed by the guv for thinking that the Death Guard’s pre-heresy name was the Life Guard. (“I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it...? What? The Guv?! Where?!!”) Thankfully, the guv was so busy with this that he never heard brother Xathras claim that there is a successor chapter of the Iron Hands called the Iron Feet.
	Then finally, just as the second sun was about to set, gigantic black ships of the Black Legion fleet went into orbit around the planet. Huge transport-ships descended from the sky, and landed somewhere on the horizon. Everyone was so disappointed that they hadn’t landed where we had put out the signs, except perhaps brother Grax, who was still stuck in his pit, and the immature brother Draegon, who had written a poem and drawn a picture of Abaddon.		Then finally, just as the second sun was about to set, gigantic black ships of the Black Legion fleet went into orbit around the planet. Huge transport-ships descended from the sky, and landed somewhere on the horizon. Everyone was so disappointed that they hadn’t landed where we had put out the signs, except perhaps brother Grax, who was still stuck in his pit, and the immature brother Draegon, who had written a poem and drawn a picture of Abaddon.
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	After writing it all down and placing a copy aboard a space-coffin which we shot into space, we decided to pay a visit to the Emperor’s Children. We had heard that yesterday they suffered terrible losses during the easiest of missions, thanks that pesky Legion of the Damned. You can be sure that when victory is in sight, those black-armored bastards will show up in their usual fashion and “save the day.” We jumped aboard a transport and headed for the Slaaneshi ship.		After writing it all down and placing a copy aboard a space-coffin which we shot into space, we decided to pay a visit to the Emperor’s Children. We had heard that yesterday they suffered terrible losses during the easiest of missions, thanks that pesky Legion of the Damned. You can be sure that when victory is in sight, those black-armored bastards will show up in their usual fashion and “save the day.” We jumped aboard a transport and headed for the Slaaneshi ship.
	We arrived on board the ship to the strangest of sounds. Lying about in the hangar, we found a small group of Noise Marines, who were jamming half-heartedly with their sonic-weapons while they smoked at least three joints each. Those who didn’t wear helmets looked like hell, drooling and staring into the air with their empty eyes. (Note: Don’t ever have a speaker operated into your mouth. It looks really uncomfortable&#33		We arrived on board the ship to the strangest of sounds. Lying about in the hangar, we found a small group of Noise Marines, who were jamming half-heartedly with their sonic-weapons while they smoked at least three joints each. Those who didn’t wear helmets looked like hell, drooling and staring into the air with their empty eyes. (Note: Don’t ever have a speaker operated into your mouth. It looks really uncomfortable&#33
	We continued into the ship and found the corridors and halls littered with Slaaneshi marines and cultists, lying about just like the Noise Marines. Many of them were wired up to the drug-outlets in the wall. They babbled nonsense and sighed with satisfaction, cuddling together in heaps, the cultists caringly polishing the armor of the marines while they whispered sweet lines of decadence into their ears. The walls were covered in multicolored ~~grafiti~~, displaying rude pictures as well as beautiful landscapes from the most idyllic daemon-worlds.		We continued into the ship and found the corridors and halls littered with Slaaneshi marines and cultists, lying about just like the Noise Marines. Many of them were wired up to the drug-outlets in the wall. They babbled nonsense and sighed with satisfaction, cuddling together in heaps, the cultists caringly polishing the armor of the marines while they whispered sweet lines of decadence into their ears. The walls were covered in multicolored graffiti, displaying rude pictures as well as beautiful landscapes from the most idyllic daemon-worlds.
	We finally found the officer in charge, a newly appointed Chaos Lord (or Drug Lord, as the Slaaneshi prefer to be called) who told us that yesterday their inspirational and much loved former leader had been killed, and very few had survived the ambush of the black marines. We soon left the depressed Emperor’s Children, since they proved no fun when all they wanted to do was die high.		We finally found the officer in charge, a newly appointed Chaos Lord (or Drug Lord, as the Slaaneshi prefer to be called) who told us that yesterday their inspirational and much loved former leader had been killed, and very few had survived the ambush of the black marines. We soon left the depressed Emperor’s Children, since they proved no fun when all they wanted to do was die high.

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	This morning, by sheer coincidence, I bumped into brother Arzhar. He’s joined squad Dharkos, the possessed, and is having one hell of a time scaring the ***** out of the enemies they face. And if a creature like Arzhar comes running towards you, you’ll either wet yourself with fear or fall to the ground laughing. Either way, Arzhar will have the advantage. Also, he’s been gifted more goodies from the gods, including the arm of a praying mantis, the backside of an elephant and some monkey’s ears. He introduced me to his squad, basically a bunch of crazy daemons using dead marine bodies as vehicles to move about in the material universe. Charming.		This morning, by sheer coincidence, I bumped into brother Arzhar. He’s joined squad Dharkos, the possessed, and is having one hell of a time scaring the ***** out of the enemies they face. And if a creature like Arzhar comes running towards you, you’ll either wet yourself with fear or fall to the ground laughing. Either way, Arzhar will have the advantage. Also, he’s been gifted more goodies from the gods, including the arm of a praying mantis, the backside of an elephant and some monkey’s ears. He introduced me to his squad, basically a bunch of crazy daemons using dead marine bodies as vehicles to move about in the material universe. Charming.
	Felt like doing something evil (it’s perfectly natural for a Chaos marine), so brother Xathras and I teleported from ship to ship, telling all the other legions how our genius of a primarch had corrupted their primarchs. You should have seen the look on the Iron Warriors warsmith when we told him that it was Horus, not the Emperor, who had been giving the Iron Warriors all those hopeless missions in the days before the heresy. It was priceless! However, our fun was cut short when the Word Bearers proudly announced that they had turned to Chaos before Horus did. But then we went to the Night Lords and reminded them that their primarch was killed by a puny female Imperial assassin. Finally, we dropped by an Alpha Legion ship. Annoyingly enough, we couldn’t find any flaws to make fun of, but shouting “Alpharius was a fool!” (even without anything to back it) conjured up the reaction we were looking for. Perhaps we hit a nerve...		Felt like doing something evil (it’s perfectly natural for a Chaos marine), so brother Xathras and I teleported from ship to ship, telling all the other legions how our genius of a primarch had corrupted their primarchs. You should have seen the look on the Iron Warriors warsmith when we told him that it was Horus, not the Emperor, who had been giving the Iron Warriors all those hopeless missions in the days before the heresy. It was priceless! However, our fun was cut short when the Word Bearers proudly announced that they had turned to Chaos before Horus did. But then we went to the Night Lords and reminded them that their primarch was killed by a puny female Imperial assassin. Finally, we dropped by an Alpha Legion ship. Annoyingly enough, we couldn’t find any flaws to make fun of, but shouting “Alpharius was a fool!” (even without anything to back it) conjured up the reaction we were looking for. Perhaps we hit a nerve...
	Later in the evening, just before we were about to retreat to our quarters for the night, came the devastating news. Lord Astralax came to our squad and delivered us the message. Squad Sargoth is in danger of being disbanded! According to Astralax, there have been so many complaints against our squad that his majesty Abaddon feels he has no choice but to get rid of us. Fortunately, Astralax managed to convince Abaddon to give us one last chance, which we’ll really have to take, since there was no shortage of ~~reaons~~ why we are the legion’s major liability. Firstly, there was our tendency to party wildly, not take our religion seriously, slaughter other squads in blood-hockey matches, not listen to orders being given, oversleep in the morning, download nude pics of N’Kari and other Slaaneshi on the ship’s main computer, all those things. And then there was the battle in the mess, our terrible bike-skills, our squad’s general disrespect to anyone except sarge, and last but not least the Dreadnought incident, which we are sure to be executed for if they ever find out who was responsible for it. Oh, and many members of other legions had complained about the little bit of fun we had earlier today, when we had run around taunting them.		Later in the evening, just before we were about to retreat to our quarters for the night, came the devastating news. Lord Astralax came to our squad and delivered us the message. Squad Sargoth is in danger of being disbanded! According to Astralax, there have been so many complaints against our squad that his majesty Abaddon feels he has no choice but to get rid of us. Fortunately, Astralax managed to convince Abaddon to give us one last chance, which we’ll really have to take, since there was no shortage of reason why we are the legion’s major liability. Firstly, there was our tendency to party wildly, not take our religion seriously, slaughter other squads in blood-hockey matches, not listen to orders being given, oversleep in the morning, download nude pics of N’Kari and other Slaaneshi on the ship’s main computer, all those things. And then there was the battle in the mess, our terrible bike-skills, our squad’s general disrespect to anyone except sarge, and last but not least the Dreadnought incident, which we are sure to be executed for if they ever find out who was responsible for it. Oh, and many members of other legions had complained about the little bit of fun we had earlier today, when we had run around taunting them.

	Day 7, week 7		Day 7, week 7
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	Day 1, week 8		Day 1, week 8
	Today, we woke up to find that the Tzeentchian cultists aboard the ship had been quite busy during the night. Driven by their need for constant change, they had been re-furnished every room, re-painted many of the walls, and done an impressive cleaning-job: All the filth and snot and slime which used to lie around was gone! Unable to do much, the unimpressed Nurgloids settled for “Okay, as long as it stays this way forever.” After all, they couldn’t just CHANGE everything back to how it used to be, cause Nurgle hates change! So narrow-minded, those gods...		Today, we woke up to find that the Tzeentchian cultists aboard the ship had been quite busy during the night. Driven by their need for constant change, they had been re-furnished every room, re-painted many of the walls, and done an impressive cleaning-job: All the filth and snot and slime which used to lie around was gone! Unable to do much, the unimpressed Nurgloids settled for “Okay, as long as it stays this way forever.” After all, they couldn’t just CHANGE everything back to how it used to be, cause Nurgle hates change! So narrow-minded, those gods...
	After quite a dramatic start to the day (We still can’t find where the Tzeentchians have put our backpacks&#33, everything was ready for the annual Daemon Festival! With the combined effort of several Sorcerers, a small warp-gate was opened right inside the hangar of our ship, and daemons poured ~~fouth~~ from the depths of the Realm of Chaos. All kinds of games and activities were organized by a Daemon Prince, and we all had a hell of a time. Brother Furiax and I competed in a game of “Squash the Nurgling”, where the aim of the game is to squeeze the biggest amount of pus and slime out of a Nurgling. Even though Furiax’s nurgling was twice as bloated as mine, I easily won thanks to my tentacle-arm, which I wrapped round the little sucker and squeezed until every drop of slime was in the measuring-bucket. (Afterwards, I made a hat out of the empty Nurgling, which I gave to Furiax.) Later, we went to watch Sarge try a round of “Jugger-riding”, which is as simple as it sounds. It’s a rodeo-style game, except in this case your goal isn’t simply to stay on the creature’s back, but also to stay alive. Anyway, Sarge lasted for ten seconds, which was the new record, and so his life was spared. I really wanted to try out my skills at “Disc-surfing”, but one had to be a member of the Cult of Tzeentch in order to participate. So instead I went to arm-wrestle a Horror, followed by a trip over to the Fleshound-racing, where I won ten quid on Hound number 8. Then we watched an intense duel between Sarge and a Bloodletter. Sarge was just about to have his head chopped off when the Bloodletter was suddenly needed for a large Daemon-battle in the Realm of Chaos, and had to leave at once. Finally, I went and had a go at the always-popular game “Spank the Daemonette”. The fun ended when the warp-gate closed (those damned Sorcerers, can’t even hold a warp gate open for a day without dying of mind-boiling&#33 and all the daemons returned to the warp.		After quite a dramatic start to the day (We still can’t find where the Tzeentchians have put our backpacks&#33, everything was ready for the annual Daemon Festival! With the combined effort of several Sorcerers, a small warp-gate was opened right inside the hangar of our ship, and daemons poured forth from the depths of the Realm of Chaos. All kinds of games and activities were organized by a Daemon Prince, and we all had a hell of a time. Brother Furiax and I competed in a game of “Squash the Nurgling”, where the aim of the game is to squeeze the biggest amount of pus and slime out of a Nurgling. Even though Furiax’s nurgling was twice as bloated as mine, I easily won thanks to my tentacle-arm, which I wrapped round the little sucker and squeezed until every drop of slime was in the measuring-bucket. (Afterwards, I made a hat out of the empty Nurgling, which I gave to Furiax.) Later, we went to watch Sarge try a round of “Jugger-riding”, which is as simple as it sounds. It’s a rodeo-style game, except in this case your goal isn’t simply to stay on the creature’s back, but also to stay alive. Anyway, Sarge lasted for ten seconds, which was the new record, and so his life was spared. I really wanted to try out my skills at “Disc-surfing”, but one had to be a member of the Cult of Tzeentch in order to participate. So instead I went to arm-wrestle a Horror, followed by a trip over to the Fleshound-racing, where I won ten quid on Hound number 8. Then we watched an intense duel between Sarge and a Bloodletter. Sarge was just about to have his head chopped off when the Bloodletter was suddenly needed for a large Daemon-battle in the Realm of Chaos, and had to leave at once. Finally, I went and had a go at the always-popular game “Spank the Daemonette”. The fun ended when the warp-gate closed (those damned Sorcerers, can’t even hold a warp gate open for a day without dying of mind-boiling&#33 and all the daemons returned to the warp.

	Day 2, week 8		Day 2, week 8